Kumotta Sora
by Feral Phoenix
Summary: After Spiral. Bloodied, broken, and abandoned by all but she who loves him most dearly, his struggle for survival was witnessed only by the familiar, the Guide, and the cloudy sky.
1. His Pain

Kumotta Sora

**DISCLAIMER:** Don't own FF:U, don't even own a copy of AS, don't get mad at me. I got this AS information from Wikipedia--they kindly included it in Kumo's bio. Hehe. The phrase "Kumotta Sora" means "Cloudy Sky" when translated into English.

**Rating Warning: **Rated M for nudity, rape flashbacks, and implications of incest. If you can't handle, don't read. This fic is NOT for the innocent--it plays partially on the view that the Earl kept Kumo around for sexually-based reasons, and on the conception that Kiri and Kumo's relationship was a bit more than brotherly.

"Kukuriyu?"

Scratched, bruised, bloodied, and exhausted, it was all she could do to keep searching.

"Kukuriyuuu!"

It had been an hour since Gaudium, the gray-and-black Castle of Chaos, had been destroyed by an immense explosion, the result of the desperate battle between the two summoned dragons, Ittouju and Hougekiju. Shattered fragments of the huge ugly thing had been raining from the sky for quite a bit since then; only recently had Crux been able to safely dart among the remnants, searching frantically.

She'd been in the nightmare structure when it had been destroyed, and looked rather the worse for wear--her tiny hands were scratched, there was a pale bruise on her left cheek, her sturdy pink armor was battered and filthy, and her lavender hair, unruly at the best of times, was just one great big frazzled poof. But she didn't care about her own condition; there was something far more important to her at stake.

In the moments of confusion directly after the deafening explosion, she had almost missed it, but by some miracle, she had seen it: the serpentine, Chaos-corrupted dragon Ittouju, battered and barely alive, had melted back into its original form--that of a white-haired, white-clad young man, badly wounded and pale from loss of blood. The tiny streak of white had shot down through the sky, apparently to land among the rest of the rubble.

Crux could care less about herself, or about any of the others who'd also been in Gaudium--the woman, those children, their scientist parents, and the man her masters had called the Black Wind--but this young man was _everything _to her. He had shown her kindness when she hadn't known the meaning of the word, had been a fleeting source of comfort among the horrors of her hateful home. His tenderness had sustained her when she thought she couldn't go on, had provided a lifeline for her even through his own darkest moments.

She had some general idea of where he'd fallen; she was combing the area now for any flash of white cloak within the churned-up snow and pieces of ugly shrapnel.

She _would _find him.

There was just nothing else for it.

---

_Burns... it burns..._

_Oh, God, for this awful pain to end..._

_I can't stand it anymore... why can't sleep just come quickly like last time, a soft blanket of peace, a panacea for every earthly pain...? Adrenaline took care of the worst of it before, when I still had a task to complete... but now... I just can't stand it anymore! This is even worse than the agony I felt when I was wounded... worse than the crawling numbness of Chaos' control... why can't it just _end? _Why won't my life fade... why can't I die?_

_Somebody, anybody save me...!_

_Niisama...!_

_And now, on top of everything else, there's the pain in my throat. I have no idea whether or not I've really been screaming... all I can hear is the echo in my head._

_Am I just going to linger until I lose the last drop of blood in my veins...?_

_I want to die... I just want to die so it can be over...!_

---

There!

Seeing the tiny trail of periwinkle ribbon in the mess of white and gray below, she dove.

He lay twisted in the slushy snow, his clothes tattered and soaked in blood, his soft white hair fluffed and tousled by the wind, a pained and despairing look on his fair face.

Even as tears of gratitude stung her golden eyes, Crux felt a surge of pain in her chest.

Shiroi Kumo, the makenshi, the only one who had ever cared about her.

Landing beside him, she gently put a small hand on his shoulder and shook it, first tentatively, then more roughly when she got no response. "Ku... Kukuriyu...?"

Panic seized her, and she threw her weight into the motion, rocking his body violently. "Kukuriyu!"

Still no response... crying in earnest, although she didn't realize it, Crux raised her battered gauntlet to his slightly parted lips, hoping against hope. Holding her breath, she watched, then sighed as its surface clouded slightly when Kumo exhaled weakly. Thank God... for a moment, she'd actually thought...

She had to get him out of this place. It was so cold, and Kumo's physical condition, combined with the thinness of his clothing, meant that if he remained for much longer, he might very well freeze to death. He was still losing blood at an alarming rate; with so little left, he wouldn't be able to keep warm. She had to get him away, somehow.

Somehow...

Crux looked at Kumo doubtfully. Once before, she had carried an unconscious human child all the way from Teros to Gaudium. It had been hard going, but she'd been able to get him there without taking a single break. Maybe she could do the same with Kumo, but he was sure to be heavier than the boy, and he was a _lot _bigger.

Still, it wasn't as if beggars could be choosers, and Crux was drawing a blank on any other options. She would just have to be careful, and make sure to rest every now and again. She hadn't in the least forgotten how sore carrying the boy had made her arms.

She'd just have to find Kumo shelter every night, and try to find some way to stop him from bleeding to death while she was at it.

Great...

Squaring her small shoulders, Crux reextended her wings, found a tight grip on Kumo's tattered cape and shirt, thought a swift prayer in hopes that his clothing wouldn't rip and drop him again, and rose slowly into the air.

---

It had barely been more than two hours, but Crux's body was already screaming in protest. She could go no further.

Spotting a stone outcropping that formed a bit of an overhang, she headed toward it, gently setting Kumo down in the granite's shadow before landing herself.

Almost sure she'd seen her joints sparking with the strain, Crux looked suspiciously at her shoulders and elbows, where her original Chaos-frame body had been loosely connected. She saw nothing, but that didn't quite allay her dark thoughts. It would be all too likely for a joint to break or disconnect, rendering her unable to get Kumo any further away.

There wasn't any debris or shrapnel here, but snow still coated the ground, and Kumo was cold enough--she could see him shivering. There wasn't much she could do, other than to try tugging his Maken out of the way so she could wrap his cape around his body, though the thin fabric would likely retain very little heat. She'd placed Kumo on the lee side of the stone, so he would be shielded from the cutting winds. That, at least, was one less thing for Crux to worry about.

Hearing the rasp of her swordsman companion's breath, Crux was filled with a brief flicker of worry; was there something else wrong with him? Even considering his condition when she'd found him, he seemed even weaker than before...

The answer came to her with almost blunt clarity. Unlike her, Kumo was an organic creature; he needed food and water to keep his body running. Without them, he would quickly waste away. Crux was a bit short on food, but the water was something she thought she could fix. Scooping up a tiny fistful of snow, she clenched her fingers around it and waited a few minutes, then held her hands next to Kumo's slightly parted lips and released the tiny amount of water. Though still unconscious, she could see that the swordsman's body had reacted reflexively; glancing to the side, she noticed the slight movement as he swallowed. Good.

Depositing a few more fistfuls of melted snow in the same way, Crux was relieved to see her still-sleeping charge relax somewhat. Knowing that now she could rest without worry, she curled up next to him, folding her wings in and tucking her face to his side. She would only take the time to recuperate her strength for the next jaunt, Crux told herself as she closed her eyes and snuggled closer. Just before wakefulness faded, she felt Kumo instinctively shift to cradle her against his chest.

---

_I remember your face, those many years ago on that cold autumn night... how nervousness made your usually pale cheeks flame with emotion. Your hand trembled as you reached out to touch my face, your thumb tracing along my lower lip._

_Your voice was shaking when you spoke the words I somehow knew were coming._

_"Ototo yo... Kumo-chan." You paused, as if considering your words. "Anata wo... aisuru..."_

_You left me an eyeblink of surprise before you leaned towards me, steadied by the familiar lay of your hand on my cheek. I closed my eyes in expectation as your lips pressed against mine, brief and sweet, one flash of heady glory before you pulled back, head bowed in shame, your carmine hair falling into your face and shielding your eyes: my first kiss._

_I didn't know how you thought you'd just soiled my still-pure soul, defiled me with your own "wicked" lusts. I only knew that somehow, I had been waiting for that gentle press of lips on lips for years._

_I took a tentative, creeping step towards you, cautious, heart fluttering in shyness. "Niisama?" My voice quavered, knowing how important it was to both of us that you heard me speak._

_You looked up, despair in your eyes, sure of my rejection._

_"Daisuki."_

_And drawing close to you again, I stood on tiptoe and kissed you back._

_You put your arms around me as I instinctively yielded to you, reveling in the taste of you flooding through me._

_That was the start of our time together, the most beautiful time of my life._

_Oh, Niisama... if only nothing had happened, if only I could wake up still tucked into your arms, knowing that everything that has happened to me since has simply been some horrible nightmare..._

_Niisama...!_

---

Crux woke with a start, letting out a squeak of dismay as her eyes snapped open. The soft darkness of a clear night had fallen over the snowscape; the full moon was high, the stars twinkling in wicked merriment. Judging by the position of the heavens, she'd been asleep for at least four hours.

At least Kumo, still asleep beside her, was still warm. He had loosely clutched her to his body much like a dreaming child might cuddle a teddy bear; held against his side, Crux had absorbed a good deal of his released body heat. As a result, even in the desperate cold of the snow, she was pleasantly warm as she cautiously slipped out of her charge's hold, took a fresh grip on his clothing, and hauled him into the air.

Crux was grateful that Kumo was so light for his size. He was easily almost two feet taller than the boy she'd had to carry before, but the added weight was only about twenty or thirty pounds. If he'd been any heavier, she'd have had to stop even more frequently, and would probably sleep at each one. As it was, she was able to carry him for three hours this time, escaping the heavier, deeper drifts of snow to ground that was only slightly frosted, an area with trees, beneath which were bare earth. It was a much better place to set Kumo down than in the midst of a bank of wet, cold snow.

The brief stop gave Crux the opportunity to address one of her more pressing concerns: the awful wound through Kumo's body, about six inches below his diaphragm. The bleeding still hadn't stopped, though it had become much more sluggish. Though there was some clotting, Crux knew better than to jump to the conclusion that it was starting to heal. The slow flow of the blood was simply due to the fact that Kumo didn't have as much blood to lose.

Over the last jaunt, Crux had noticed how labored Kumo's breathing had become. His blood loss was starting to affect his oxygen intake, and that was _very _bad. Now that they were in slightly more temperate conditions, Crux could take the time to try to find herbs and berries that would staunch the bleeding and help him regenerate some of the blood he'd lost so far.

For once, it would pay off to have spent so much time in Herba's quarters back at Gaudium. The plant-woman had certainly known her curatives--one section of her deadly "garden" had been devoted to them, with each labeled, its effects neatly defined.

In fact, Kumo had been known to raid the little patch of panaceas in order to care for the various wounds Crux obtained while following Kaze and the Comodeen rebels.

Flitting around though the underbrush, Crux looked wildly around at the various plants in her path. If she was lucky, she might find some bloodwort or sanguicynth--they were some of the best herbs to use on a patient who'd lost as much blood as Kumo had.

Within about ten minutes, Crux had accumulated a tiny stock of silver aster (prevented certain infections), blue soapwort (a very gentle cleanser), Hanuman's mint (promoted overall healing), and Monarch's Daisy (contained a chemical that clotted blood). The environment was completely wrong for sanguicynth, and bloodwort was rare in cold conditions, so she would have to make due with what she'd gotten already. Raiding a patch of winter peas in passing, Crux returned to where she'd left Kumo.

Touching down, she carefully deposited her herbs by Kumo's hand and ripped a length of cloth from the end of his cape as a makeshift bandage. Squaring her shoulders determinedly, she carefully loosed the Mistbelt and swordbelt from Kumo's waist and peeled back his blouse from the wound.

Trying not to stare too hard at the bloody hole, Crux chewed a few silver aster leaves to line the wound. It wasn't as though the cut was messy--far from it, in fact. The razor edges of the Maken had kept the awful cut's edges even and clean. However, due to that cleanness, if you stared long and hard enough, you could actually see _into _the wound, which Crux did not want to do. The one time she had, she'd realized that the Maken's edge had slightly nicked the side of Kumo's intestines. She would never forget that sight, and didn't want any more ingrained in her mind.

Having placed pulped silver aster, Monarch's Daisy petals, and soapwort leaves on both sides of the wound, Crux carefully pressed the sides of skin against each other. A fresh trickle of blood slipped lazily across Kumo's skin, and the swordsman flinched in his sleep, giving a muted whimper, but Crux refused to let go for several seconds. Seeing the skin stick slightly, she quickly began to wind the makeshift bandage around Kumo's waist, pulling it as close as she could without restricting his breathing. Finished, she tucked the loose end beneath another part of the strip and leaned back, sighing. It might not be the cleanest job she'd ever done, but she'd have time to adjust it later. More carefully, Crux pulled Kumo's shirt back down and refastened his belts over it. There--one unpleasant task over and done with.

Only one more left. Hanuman's mint had to be ingested for it to work properly, and the peas were the only meager sustenance she'd been able to forage for Kumo for the past nine hours. If she couldn't get him to wake, which was pretty likely considering his condition, she would have to chew it herself and pass it to him, forcing him to swallow it.

It was just part of nursing someone this weak back to health, but Crux was a little leery of the process. Passing food from your mouth to your patient's was just so _personal. _And besides, to do that... she'd have to as good as kiss him.

_Awkward _didn't even begin to describe.

However, if she wanted him to live, she would have to. Which left her no other option.

Sighing a little, Crux turned to the peas and mint leaves, her face already starting to flame.

Just as she'd picked them up, a soft moan made her start and wheel around. Miraculously, Kumo had opened his eyes.

"Crux...?"

Almost dropping her precious finds, she scooted over to him, wide-eyed in anxiety. He was still so pale, so weak... and his voice was so soft. Even more worrying, his beautiful jadeine eyes seemed slightly unfocused, almost dizzy.

"Kukuriyu..." Feeling like she could cry from tearing worry and simultaneous relief, she did her best to explain what she'd been able to do for him so far.

Blinking slightly, Kumo managed a weak smile for her. "Thank you."

Starting to blush again, she held out the peas and mint leaves. "Kuu..."

He closed his eyes, tried to shake his head. "I'm sorry... I... don't think... I'm strong enough."

Crux felt like smacking her head against a tree. Of course. If she'd been in his condition, she doubted she'd be able to chew, either. "Kukuriyu."

He sighed, a sad, tiny sound like the last bit of air rushing out of a badly inflated balloon. "You don't have to do that..."

Scowling, she glared at him. "Kui_YU." _What was he, stupid? He needed the nutrition.

He sighed again. "Alright." He was silent, with only the barest flicker of eyelids betraying his wakefulness.

The blush returning yet a third time, Crux almost grudgingly chewed a mouthful of mint leaves. If someone had told her yesterday she would actually argue with Kumo in favor of passing food this way, she'd have laughed herself sick.

Well, it wasn't like she could back down now. Reluctantly, she pressed her lips to his, feeling his weak swallow moments later.

They went back and forth with the remainder of the mint, then the peas, until Crux was sure that Kumo had gotten everything. "Kuu."

He gave her another tiny smile, too weak even to open his eyes. "Kansha suru," he managed in a whisper, and to all appearances, was asleep again.

Sighing, Crux leaned back against his arms and closed her eyes, half-dozing for the next hour or so.

When she awoke, she would continue her southward journey, trying to find a safer, more convenient place for Kumo to rest and recover.

(TBC)


	2. Complication

Kumotta Sora

See disclaimer and warning in Part 1

Slowly but surely, Crux had managed to drag Kumo some sixty or seventy miles from the site at which she'd found him, amidst the wreckage of Gaudium.

It had taken a few days, which had passed in eternities of constant terror. What if Crux wasn't able to find the proper herbs wherever they landed? What if the bandages wore out? (It would be bad if she had to completely dismantle Kumo's cape in order to keep his wounds bound, so she was trying to reuse the old bandages until they became hopelessly stained before tearing new cloth.) What if she couldn't get Kumo food or water? What if his blood wasn't regenerated quickly enough (he was still bleeding, just a little bit)? What if... what if... what if...?

But all what-ifs aside, Crux had managed to get Kumo to the ideal site for recovery: Not a living soul around, just a rocky, shallow abandoned cave next to a clear lake, engulfed in thick forest. She no longer had to worry about water or shelter, and her forages for food could be more detailed and meticulous. She was able to stay with Kumo longer, able to reassure him in his moments of semiconsciousness. Most of the time, he slept--he was still very weak, after all, and he was just getting enough food and water to sustain him. One of the drawbacks of being his size was that he required a _lot _of nuts, berries, mushrooms, and herbs to claw his way up from the abyss. Crux did what she could, but she could tell by the amount of time he spent sleeping that he was still doing his best to conserve energy anyways.

Kumo was a model patient. With dignity, he accepted everything she did for him, even her clumsy attempts at bandaging his wounds. She herself knew the sting of even the mildest soapwort against injuries, but the strongest protest he'd offered when she placed it against his open wound was a tiny wince. There were still times when he became too weak to chew food on his own; he accepted his caretaker's extreme reluctance to pass it to him herself unquestioningly, was patient until she resolved herself, no matter how terribly hungry he himself was. He didn't try to tax himself with any movement greater than limping and/or crawling, if need be, to the water for a drink or the far side of the rocky encampment that formed his cave if he needed to relieve himself. When she was worried, he softly assured her that he would be alright in time.

Depending on his physical state, sometimes she even believed him.

In fact, Crux could see him slowly and steadily gaining victories.

The first morning he'd been completely alert and lucid when she'd awakened him. The day he'd dragged himself to the water's edge to spare her the embarrassment of having to pass liquids as well as solids to him. The hazy twilit sunset when he'd stood up without help. The ever-increasing frequency of the days when he had been able to chew and swallow his own food without Crux having to do some part of the process for him.

The day when Crux had seen scabbing at the edges of Kumo's awful wound, in the middle of changing his bandages.

He was actually _improving._

---

_I know it's a dream, but why can't I ever wake up...?_

_Why does my mind force me to see these things...?_

_"I've been waiting for you."_

_Your voice, your face... washed over in the stone blankness of cold hatred._

_As much a plea as anything else, the words just tore out of me: "Why did you...?"_

_Your answer, just as cold and unfeeling as anything else... as blank as your crimson eyes. "I was resurrected and brought here for one purpose... to finish our fight._

_"Prepare for battle, little brother..."_

_I stood silent, unable to face the reality of the crimson sword whose killing blade was pointed at my throat._

_Oh, Niisama..._

---

Crux was awakened by the low moan behind her: Kumo's.

All vestiges of sleep gone, she turned to him and gently shook him where he lay. "Kukuriyu?"

He didn't respond, which was strange--hadn't they gotten past that point? Even if Kumo did sleep a lot these days, he slept lightly and awoke at her touch. Besides that, his face was flushed pink, and his skin was unusually warm against her hands.

She shook him harder. "Kukuriyu!"

Still no response. Crux felt like screaming. Just when things had started to look up for Kumo, he'd gotten _sick. _That would bring him back down to the danger point again, and could possibly leave permanent damage to his health. He was still so weak already...

Well, she'd just have to look for more herbs to help bring his fever down. Steeling herself with a sigh, she stroked Kumo's shoulder comfortingly, going as far as to lightly kiss his cheek before extending her wings to fly back to the forest.

---

_"Do you remember that great battle that sealed the fate of our world, _little brother?

_"At that time, why did I advance towards the enemy, fighting them without holding back? Do you know?"_

_I fumbled for an answer, distracted by that horrible, haunted look in your eyes. "Because... you were a swordsman of great pride..."_

_"Wrong!"_

_I couldn't help but be taken aback. "What?"_

_"I was thinking of you the whole time!"_

_"Me...?"_

_Your glare had hold of something inside of me, and wasn't letting go. I couldn't move, could barely breathe, could only struggle against the tears I could feel coming._

_"If it had been you, what would you have been thinking?" Your voice, driven with obsession, threaded an awful chill across my back, as if someone was tracing a pattern there with new cello strings. "What would you have done? Thoughts like those have always brought me to the question of who was the stronger between the two of us. I wanted to lead us to victory in that great battle to show my superior skills!"_

_"Niisama..." Pain. The awful pain, with the awful truth... all those nights, when I bowed to your need for dominance, when you held me as I trembled with the pleasure you'd given me, when you'd whispered your love to me... was this what had been behind the façade of your tenderness? Something inside me was shattering with every word you spoke._

_Niisama... I _loved _you, I love you still... so why... why...?_

_"_I _was the greater swordsman, and you _know _it," you went on, dogged determination, callous cruelty in your voice. "I was the one left to make the difficult choices. And so... I died..._

_"But even in death, this was the thought I could not escape."_

_"So that is how badly you want to fight me..." I murmured, torn to pieces by your hatred._

_"Our world has been devoured and decimated by Chaos," you said simply, still glaring, your hair and cape teased by the wind. "Now I'm free of all care."_

_Niisama..._

---

After fifteen minutes' worth of fruitless searching, Crux returned frustrated to Kumo's sheltered cave. The least she could do was try to cool him down a little for now...

Kumo was lying in exactly the same position she'd left him in, his cheeks flamed still further than before, shivering now, curled just a tiny bit more closely. Landing beside him, Crux could see the tiny beads of perspiration standing out on his skin and forgot her exasperation at the inconvenience of the situation. Guiltily, she put her small hand on Kumo's shoulder.

And pulled it away as if she'd been bitten.

The mild fever he'd displayed when she'd left only fifteen minutes ago had soared dramatically. Small wonder that he was covered in sweat--he was burning up! This was no simple illness... Kumo was in real danger now. Whether it was simply his own previous weakness or the strength of the infection itself, Kumo was deathly ill and fighting a losing battle.

Crux had to get him _help._

She knew next to nothing about treating illnesses, aside from _very _basic herbal remedies. Something so simple wouldn't be able to help Kumo here. She needed to find someone who knew what they were doing, someone who'd be willing to save a man who'd once been a captive soldier of Earl Tyrant... and she needed to find them _now._

Flitting down to the water's edge, Crux cupped her hands to gather a shallow bit of liquid, which she successively splashed against Kumo's face and the nape of his neck. Until she found someone, that was all she could do for him...

With one last determined look at her helpless charge, Crux took off again, a tiny fleck of pink, lavender, and gold against the azure sky.

---

_"Enough! Now fight me!" Impatient, you slashed your blade through the air, still glaring at me with the utmost hatred._

_"Niisama!" Somehow, it was once again all that I could say._

_"Now I am nothing more than a dead soul living within this crystal weapon, and you must answer to my spirit and my sword!"_

_I was silent, still unable to breathe or move. My chest felt painfully tight; agony rippled up my breastbone. Tears stung my eyes and blurred your image, bold red against the blue-shaded white of the clouds and the soft, dreamlike haze of your Mist._

_"If you will not come to face me, then I will come to you!"_

_And you lunged towards me._

---

The exact reasons Crux had chosen the secluded glade for Kumo's recovery now seemed to condemn him to his fate. She'd wanted to find some place away from prying eyes, so Kumo wouldn't be in danger from the many who'd once been oppressed under the Earl's rule... but the distance from civilization now meant that there was no one she could reach for help.

It was just no use... all the surviving people of Wonderland were just too far away...! Despite all her best efforts, Kumo was going to die and it would be entirely her fault, for her bad choice.

Feeling like crying, Crux headed slowly back towards Kumo's cave. All she could do was stay with him, and ease his passing...

It was a few moments, desolate as she was, before she noticed the increasingly strong sound of waves, as if the tide was gently lapping soft shores.

Realizing at last, Crux came to a halt, confused. There was no lake that large in this forest...

Looking around, she saw it, resting in a small clearing in the trees: What seemed to be a giant, spiked clam shell, at least a hundred times the natural size of a normal one. The sound of waves was coming from it, telling Crux that surely there was something _magical _about this place. That... and surely, a _normal _clam shell, even such a huge one as this, wouldn't have _wings._

Hovering closer, intrigued despite herself, Crux realized that behind a multitude of immense, iridescent pearls, there was a _person _sitting behind a glimmering blue crystal inside the huge thing.

Perhaps there was hope after all.

Somewhat timidly, Crux flew slowly to the giant structure, studying the person as she did so. It was a woman--a strikingly beautiful woman, ivory-skinned with haunting dark eyes and strong, ageless features on an oval face. Her slightly parted lips had been touched with pink luster, and the nails of her elegant hands were painted teal-blue. The entirety of her attention was on the ball in her hands; her half-closed eyes flicked back and forth while staring at it, as though she was reading some strange book. Her silvery hair and much of her form were hidden beneath a pale yellow hooded cloak with white lining and a soft magenta underside; it was a few feet longer than she was tall and trailed on the ground like the train of a dress. Beneath the cloak, she wore a simple, dusk-blue dress, made of some light silky fabric that clung to her breasts and waist. The glow of the crystal cast soft shadows over her; the overall effect had Crux more than a little cowed. Even though this was her only chance, who knew what this woman's reaction would be.

As soon as Crux passed the first of the large pearls, the woman looked up, making her squeak in surprise. Oddly, however, she seemed completely unconcerned by the appearance of a complete stranger in her domain--even more oddly, Crux had the feeling that the woman knew exactly who she was, and that she'd been expected sooner or later.

"What is it, dear?" she asked, with the calm air of an omniscient mother.

"Kuu..." Crux faltered, not sure of what exactly she should do.

The woman stood, smiling. "There's no need to be afraid here... certainly not of me. My name is Fabula Kronos... I am a Guide."

Although Crux wasn't _exactly _sure what that meant, she knew a sympathetic heart when she found one. Before she knew it, she'd zipped straight into Fabula's arms and had told her everything that had happened from Gaudium's collapse straight to Kumo's strange and deadly fever, not even stopping to wonder how exactly the strange woman seemed to completely understand her every word, when the only ones who'd been able to comprehend her speech were Kumo and her creator, the necromancer Oscha...

When she'd finished, Crux looked up at Fabula, who now wore a distinctly alarmed expression. "So soon...?" she asked, shaking her head. "I must have misread... how has time passed so quickly since Chaos was pushed back...?" Her lips tightened, and she gave Crux the kind of commanding look that she couldn't help but obey. "Take me to him--_now."_

---

_Caught off-guard, I leaped backwards to dodge your mad strike, drawing my own sword at last. You breathed out a steady stream of Mist, then shot into the air. Desperate, I followed you._

_"Niisama!" I cried, searching your face for remnants of the side of you I'd used to know. "Niisama, don't you see? There is someone taking advantage of your heart, trying to confuse you with these deceptions!"_

_"What of it?" you asked coldly, and I could feel it--it was hopeless._

_"Niisama..."_

_You dashed towards me again, swinging your crimson Maken recklessly. "Try taking this on--my Flare Sword!"_

_I tried to deflect the worst of the blow with my own sword, but I was still blown back, my unwillingness to harm you exacting its heavy toll. Thrown into another part of the ruins, I was able to struggle back up, but the most unwelcome sight was there to greet me._

_You were so far gone that you were even willing to summon against me._

_Niisama... why...?_

---

Crux had to admit to herself, she was surprised. Not only by the force of Fabula's demand, but by the fact that someone who gave off such a dignified feeling wasn't above hiking up her skirt and running through the forests to Kumo's cave by the lake.

She was also surprised by the time they made. Despite the heavy clothing she was wearing, Fabula was _fast. _Not to mention determined. She hadn't even gotten her cloak tangled in the brush once over the five-minute journey back.

While Crux halted a few feet away, Fabula made a beeline for Kumo's side, stripping off her cloak and dumping it unceremoniously behind her. "He's fading," she said softly, and turned back to the little sprite. "Please listen to me--back in the shell palace, there's a healer's kit hidden behind the largest pearl. Get that and bring it back here, and _hurry. _I don't have much time if I'm to keep him alive!"

A tight, clawed fist reached into Crux's chest and squeezed. Unable to think past the phrase _Oh God, _she did as she was told.

When she got back, toting the small wicker case she'd uncovered, she discovered that Fabula had been busy. The silver-haired Guide had lifted Kumo onto her cloak and stripped off his blouse; she was carefully undoing the worn strip of cloth that bandaged his wound when Crux landed.

"Thank you," Fabula said distractedly, now very gently probing Kumo's injury. A trickle of blood slipped across his skin, followed by a second trickle of some other kind of liquid, some sort of opaque, yellowish discharge. "It only seems to be a minor infection, but... best to start small." Turning as Crux watched helplessly, she opened the wicker kit, pulling out some kind of herb that the sprite didn't recognize. It had already been powdered; only small pieces of the leaf were visible in the dust. Very carefully, Fabula spread a pinch of the pieces and powder _inside _Kumo's wound; Crux shivered involuntarily. She herself couldn't stand to look at the hole through her charge's body for very long... how could Fabula possibly stand having to touch it and work within it?

Minutes passed like hours; though Crux didn't understand everything that Fabula was doing, still she watched anxiously. The Guide's concentration never wavered as she mixed her delicate poultices, which she applied over and in Kumo's wound, first on the entrance side, then where the Maken's tip had broken through the young swordsman's back.

Finally, she turned slightly, her hands still against Kumo's skin. "Please pass me some of the linen bandages..." Her own hands shaking, Crux did. With practiced expertise, Fabula wound the length of cloth tightly around Kumo's waist, finally tying off the strip when she reached its end. With a sigh, she sat back, her fingertips still bloody.

"The herbs and curatives will help purge the infection," she explained to the still-anxious Crux. "In the morning, he should be doing much better, but he'll still have to deal with the illness he's contracted... I have no idea whether or not he'll make it. For me, it's just a matter of seeing that he gets that crucial push in the right direction, since I _still _can't use magic to help him heal. I think his wound, at least, will recover in time, but with this fever I just don't know... for now, he's going to need rest; after that, we've got to keep him fed _and _do what we can to help him fend off his sickness."

"Kukuriyu..." Bowing deeply to the Guide from where she stood, Crux ran to put her arms around Kumo, still unconscious and still burning with fever.

Fabula just sighed, shook her head, gave the two of them a sad smile, and headed down to the water's edge to rinse her hands clean.

---

_What else could I have done...?_

_I called a summon of similar rank, only wishing to defend myself against your onslaught._

_Your will, of course, was stronger than mine. You were looking to kill, I for a way out of the vicious cycle of the nightmare before me. Your crimson Ittouju destroyed mine within moments, and I struggled with exhaustion as its demise drained my energy._

_Somehow, the crystal within your Maken shattered under the strain of your summon's attack, and I wasn't harmed..._

_Barely standing, I cried out to you one last time: "Please, try to calm your spirit, my brother...!"_

_You just smirked at me._

_"Use your sword, not your mouth... why don't you try using that sword to 'calm my spirit', my _brother?"

_And you brought your Maken to its full power._

_"Niisama, you have lost the power that made you Madoushi," I said softly, knowing I was trapped, giving in and transforming my own blade. "Now the sword of my spirit shall work against you, and put you to rest!"_

_You rushed me; I caught your strike on my sword._

_And my mind went as blank as it had always been while we trained, seeking only victory._

_Finally: My Maken cleaved through yours, causing the crystal near the hilt to shatter completely._

_The pain and shock on your face will haunt me forever._

_I only realized what I had done when you collapsed, when it was too late, when all I could do was grip the hem of your cloak and pull your body into my arms._

_You gave me that sad, tired smile, and reached up to touch my cheek, to catch the tears there._

_And then you were gone._

_Niisama... I don't understand _why! _What happened to you...? I just don't understand... I don't know what's real anymore... who is the real you...? The man who held me tenderly, gave me the gift of my first kiss, to whom I willingly sacrificed my virginity, my innocence... or the bitterly jealous man, overshadowed by my skill, wanting nothing more than to see me dead?_

_I just want to be held by you, protected, to be a child again... or better, to wake up with you each morning, to have your passion, your care, to make love to you... That's all I ever wanted, and all I ever will want..._

_The one thing I can never have..._

_Oh, Niisama..._

---

They were both sound asleep when Fabula got back to the little cave.

She wished that she could do more, but her hands were tied. She already couldn't use her powers to save Kumo; how much further could she go before she violated her strict orders to toe the line?

In the long run, would saving Kumo's life be worth losing her own?

It was all a matter of carefully seeking out the loopholes and directing Crux towards the actions that would make all the difference...

Nothing more...

(TBC)


	3. Shadows of the Past

Kumotta Sora

See disclaimer and warning in Part 1

Crux woke abruptly as she felt Kumo's body shift restlessly beside her; once again, she'd slept with him holding her tightly in his arms, and had been attuned to his movements through the night. His face was still covered in pink fever-flush, but there were no bright beads of perspiration for once. Carefully, she wormed her way out of his grip (although some warmth was good, sleeping in Kumo's embrace was now like napping next to an oven turned up to full blast) and looked around.

Fabula, leaning against the rock wall, gave her a small nod and a smile. "Good morning."

Crux gave her a suspicious look. "Kuriyu...?"

"I slept a little bit, which is more than enough. Kumo's health is far more important than mine--Guides don't get sick. Would you mind heading out for a little bit? He's going to need food if he's going to get any better. I need to clean his wound... and give him a bath, while I'm at it."

The sprite nodded. She'd worried a little about how to keep Kumo clean over the past few days--heavens knew she was far too shy to actually strip him down and coax him into the water. It was a good thing that Fabula was willing to take care of that.

"Try to get as much as you can... it'll be hard, but do your best. I'm counting on you."

Setting her shoulders, Crux flipped out her wings and hopped into the air, zipping towards the forest. Foraging would take time, but with someone else around to watch Kumo, she'd be able to spare it.

---

_I lay helpless in the wreckage of the sheets, knowing I would be unable to move for some time yet. My hips and lower body ached; the soreness was a plague I wished would just go away. The pain had been awful while it lasted; you'd warned me beforehand that it would probably hurt, but I hadn't listened. I'd wanted you; you'd wanted me. It was simple, then, to give each other what we needed._

_It took a while for me to feel anything but the pain, but when I had... oh, God, I realized how worth it all the agony had been. The pleasure, and your tenderness... all I'd been able to do was cry when I'd felt you move inside me._

_Struggling, I managed to turn my head to where you lay beside me, exhausted, already asleep. With your eyes closed and your breathing slow and even, you always seemed so calm and peaceful. It was a side of you that, so far, only I had seen. And it only made me love you more._

_The healers had told us that the second time shouldn't hurt as much as the first._

_In the morning, when you and I were rested, I would ask you to take me again... I couldn't help but be addicted to the intimacy in the soft press of our bodies, the different ways we could fit together, your lips at my throat as you murmured, between kisses, how much you loved and needed me._

_But for now... I was content to just rest in the calm, sweet silence of the night, comforted by your closeness, the promise of the future. All I ever wanted was you, and I had it. It was the happiest I'd ever been._

_Niisama..._

---

With Crux gone, Fabula sighed and turned to Kumo. Back to business.

Some of the trouble of his worst wound's infection should now be taken care of, but Fabula _knew _that couldn't be all there was contributing to the Mystarian swordsman's condition. That fever by itself should have been just debilitating, not deadly.

She would be bathing Kumo, cleaning his wound, and changing his bandages, yes. But she would also be checking for _other _injuries that might have escaped Crux's attention.

Carefully, she removed Kumo's swordbelt and Mistbelt; placing them with her cloak, she effortlessly lifted him into her arms and walked down to the water's edge, choosing to sit by a rocky, sharper slope downwards, so that she would actually be able to submerge him when she needed to. Still seeming calm and unconcerned, she gently pulled off Kumo's soft blouse and pants with the patient hands of a mother.

Deciding to leave the poor boy in his panties a little longer, Fabula undid his bandages first, deciding to inspect his injury. Crux hadn't done too bad a job with it; the damage to Kumo's internal organs was already starting to heal, and the cuts to his skin and muscle were scabbing over. She'd probably end up stitching it closed sooner rather than later; the blood that oozed across Kumo's skin when she gently probed the wound was bright with the oxygen it carried, and there was less discharge than before. Pus was usually a sign that something had gone seriously wrong with a wound; thanks to the sharpness of the Maken itself, no truly nasty infections had set in, just a mild one. Fabula's poultices the night before were already doing their work. If she just kept applying them, and made sure the wound was always clean, Kumo would heal--his race recovered quickly, even from things like this. As long as _he _was careful, she doubted he'd have much serious trouble, although she knew it might always pain him.

With that out of the way, it was time for a closer inspection. Gently pressing with the tips of her fingers, Fabula carefully checked the condition of Kumo's bones. None were broken (obviously), though she _did _have a feeling that the young swordsman had managed to crack two or more of his ribs recently. They were almost completely knitted, so it couldn't have been from the days surrounding Chaos' defeat. It had to have been a little further back...

Also, with some relief, Fabula noted that none of Kumo's seven spikes were damaged in any way. That was definitely a good sign. She knew as well as _anybody _the rumors of what would happen to a Mystarian if his or her spikes were shattered. Well, there was one less worry for her to deal with.

No, what Fabula was concerned about was the faint mark she had discovered on the side of Kumo's throat. Even though it was old and faded, against Kumo's ivory skin it was unmistakably a bruise.

Suspicious, she looked over Kumo's body again, this time inspecting his skin above everything else. She found no more bruises, but there was a faint pink scar high on the inside of his right thigh, almost in his groin. With a pensive, inscrutible expression, Fabula carefully adjusted Kumo into a sitting position with his upper body supported in the crook of her arm and slipped off his panties.

Unlike most male humans, as a Mystarian, Kumo lacked the thick, coarse mat of curls that sprung in puberty on other men's chests, in their underarms, and between their legs. He'd retained the light baby down possessed by children, leaving his body unusually soft, smooth, and open. Consequently, as Fabula cradled Kumo's limp, unconscious form in her arms, one glance was enough to confirm her fears.

There were other, more vivid scars here, stark on the most sensitive of Kumo's flesh. They formed a delicate tracery across his genitals and groin; Fabula knew where else she'd find them, if she looked.

Her grip on Kumo's bare shoulders tightened as she held him close, whispering in a saddened voice, "My dear child... what has he done to you...?"

---

_As the days passed slowly at Gaudium, I spent my time daydreaming about the peaceful moments._

_Surrounding myself in my memories, I thought to cut myself off from the negative emotions which Chaos was rumored to feed upon. If the Earl and his lords truly were connected with it, then it was best to be on the safe side._

_The nights we'd spent together... the mornings when your mood waxed playful rather than needful, when we'd just mess around in bed rather than having any serious sex. The feel of your warm body pressed up to my back, your arms draped over me, your hands clasped before me. Your low murmur in my ear, the soft praise, the words of love..._

_But the sadness wouldn't go away, now that I knew you were gone..._

_Remembering brought back that warmth, but it also brought fresh pain..._

_And even the dearest of memories couldn't protect me from reality forever..._

---

Crux skimmed through the trees, letting the sharp wind ruffle her hair, not even stopping to look. She knew well what meager fare she'd be able to find in the forest, and it wasn't the kind of _real _food Kumo would need to recover. She had to expand her search radius to include the surrounding areas.

If she could get him better food, then perhaps...

Fabula obviously knew what she was doing where Crux didn't. Between the two of them, maybe they'd be able to pull him through the fever towards true recovery.

Maybe...

For Kumo's sake, she had to keep going...

Squinting under the wind's intensity, she broke through the cover of the trees, heading into the open fields surrounding them.

---

Leaving the pile of silky blue fabric behind her, Fabula stepped forward onto the surface of the water, the delicate touch of her steps spreading ripples and nothing more.

Kumo, cradled closely in her arms, felt as though he had no more than a feather's weight. She'd positioned him so that his cheek rested on her shoulder; in his sleep, he'd weakly put his arms around her. His grip was far too frail for her liking, but it was there. He was still able to hang on... if he could hold on to her, he could hold on to life, she reasoned stubbornly.

_You didn't escape Mystaria's destruction, reawaken after twelve years of death-sleep, and survive the rape of your body and soul just to succumb to a simple fever, did you? You're a survivor, Shiroi Kumo, and you are going to beat this if I have any say in the matter._

"You'd best keep that grip, dear," she said softly to him, aloud. Shifting her grip on him slightly, she reached out with her left hand, tracing a symbol in midair. _"Pure. Prayer. Cleansing. _Heed my call--_water! _Form the chain of healing!"

Barely had she finished speaking when the film she'd seemed to stand on gave, and the two of them were plunged into the center of the lake.

A soft burst of bubbles escaped Kumo's parted lips, but he gave no further resistance. Although the water's eddies gently tugged, the weak clasp of his hands over Fabula's other shoulder held.

She was _very _pleased.

Feeling the pads of her feet touch bottom, she pushed off and kicked strongly back towards the surface, a tiny glitter of sunlight above her.

The purified water would cleanse Kumo's wound; she had no fear for that.

This, at least, was safe. Gently immersing her swordsman patient in water, carrying him with her--this, she knew, could help him.

If only she could purge his illness so easily...

Breaking the surface, Fabula hovered over the frothing blue, trails of water tracing patterns across her skin, still cradling Kumo in her arms.

"Let's see if we can't get your bandages fixed again, dearling."

Beneath the still façade of calm, she walked back to the rocky shore, expression smooth in the appearance of unconcern.

---

When Crux returned at midday, empty-handed, she quickly took notice of two things.

Fabula, sitting calmly at the center of the little "cave", had pinned her silver hair up into a messy, inattentive bun, not caring that a few solitary strands of moonlight-colored hair trailed down across her back. It was a darker silver than before--Crux suspected that it was wet--and she'd kilted her skirt up to her thighs, knotting the extra fabric at her hip. She once again held the sparkling blue crystal in both hands, its faint light casting shadows over the planes of her face.

Kumo, curled up on Fabula's cloak, had new bandages wrapped tightly around his waist. And aside from those, he was completely naked.

Squeaking and looking away, she landed next to the Guide with an adamant protest. "Kukuriyuuuu!"

Fabula smiled. "I didn't want to have to put him back into dirty clothes right after he'd gotten clean. I haven't had the chance to wash those yet, but he'll be just fine there." At the sight of Crux's aggravated grimace and wild blush, her smile grew. "You've no need to be embarrassed. This is doing him good... at least now, he's sleeping soundly. And I doubt you're the type to take advantage of that fact."

"Kuuuu!"

"I beg your pardon... I shouldn't have teased you like that." However, Fabula was still smiling. "Now... did you have any success?"

Hanging her head, Crux sighed. "Kukuriyu..."

"That's alright. I hope you do manage something next time, though. Kumo will need food soon..."

Setting her crystal down, she stood, walking to Kumo's side and looking down at him.

"You've been the victim of Fate's cruel whims for far too long, dear... both of you..."

And, kneeling, she straightened Kumo's damp, fluffy bangs on his forehead.

---

_Why are you here?_

_For whose sake have you come?_

_The words echo in my mind as I remember him._

_Surely not for the sake of that woman and those children he finds himself magnetized to. No, he's not exactly the gregarious type... and not for mine, not any longer. His desire to protect me disappeared long ago, with the rest of his memories. The damage Chaos dealt to his Magun seems to have given him some kind of amnesia... whose, then? Aura's? His strange companion Moogle's? I have no idea._

_So aptly named... he simply drifts through life on the wind, without purpose or intention. All he sought this entire time has been my death._

_Kaze... my old friend..._

_Everything has been denied me in this life. Peace, love, companionship..._

_All that is left is pain..._

---

Crux set out again with greater need than ever.

Kumo just couldn't go much longer without food. Glancing at him before she'd left, she'd been able to see the suggestion of his ribs in the shadows that played along his side with the faint light of dawn.

If he went much longer without, he'd start to starve, and _then _how would he be able to fight off his fever, which was still pretty bad despite the improving condition of his wound?

She had to help him.

She thought she'd seen some kind of field on the horizon when she'd checked the lands surrounding the forest...

Praying as hard as she could, she sped in that direction, refusing to allow herself any rest until she was able to bring something back.

---

With a frustrated sigh, Fabula set aside her crystal and went to give Kumo a check-over.

His temperature hadn't changed, she saw when she gently touched his forehead while trying to shove his bangs out of the way. It was an ill sign, but at least his fever hadn't gotten any worse than it had been already.

She'd need to stitch his wound closed today, to make sure it would eventually seal over. It was at the point where she could safely do so without needing to worry about infection... her poultices had done their work, purging the bacteria that'd gotten in from his system.

She doubted there would be any surprises today, although she steeled herself for unpleasant ones when she checked the condition of the scars between his legs.

She was wrong.

As she gave Kumo's hair a soft farewell stroke, he let out a weak moan, shuddering beneath her touch, his eyelids fluttering.

Fabula caught her breath. Was he actually regaining consciousness...?

"Do... doko ka...?" The words came out in a faint whisper that was more than half-sob.

"Shh... don't push yourself...!" Alarmed, she smoothed his hair again. "You're in a safe place, dear. You don't need to worry about _him. _But you're very sick right now, so you need to stay still and rest."

"Itai wa," Kumo whispered. He looked up at Fabula pleadingly, and a tear traced quickly down his cheek, his eyes becoming overbright in the dim light.

"I know. I know. Please, please try to bear it for a while. You were very badly injured fighting Chaos, and it's not fully healed... you'll be in pain for a while yet. Just rest now, dear. You'll feel better if you don't strain yourself."

"Gomenasai."

"Don't be sorry. You shouldn't have to deny yourself what you need anymore. Go back to sleep, dear. I'll watch over you." Kumo shuddered again beneath her touch. "Is something wrong?"

There was a pause, and then Kumo seemed to gather the strength for another whisper. "Samui desu..." He trembled again, pulling his limbs a little closer to his body and wincing with the pain of movement.

Carefully, Fabula pulled a fold of her long cloak over Kumo's body. "You have a fever, little one. You'll be feeling the cold and the ache for a while yet, but I'm doing what I can."

"Watashi wa kowaru..."

Something in her heart clenched, the way it had when she'd seen his Maken pierce his body through her crystal, when she'd heard his horrible screaming.

"I know. But, my dear Kumo... you have people here with you now. Crux and I will do all we can for you, and I won't leave your side until you're well."

There was no response. Kumo had lapsed back into unconsciousness.

Sighing, Fabula leaned down and gently kissed his cheek. She hoped that Kumo had heard and understood her, but he'd seemed almost delirious. It was _definitely _a bad sign that he was already trembling with cold even though his body temperature was so high. Chills, aches, and discomfort were generally signs of bad fevers... and since Kumo was feeling the signs so _early..._

But there was nothing much she could do, besides stay by his side and try to nurse him back to health. She still couldn't use her powers to heal him, although she knew that she was well capable of purging the illness in an instant.

She was helpless to aid him and she _hated _it.

As she watched, Kumo's lips formed the shape of a word, whispering softly in his sleep.

_"Niisama..."_

(TBC)

A/N: Kumo's Japanese in this chapter means (for all you who don't know or have no access to a JP/English dictionary)...

-"Doko ka?": Literally, "Where am I?".

-"Itai wa": "It hurts". Poor baby... (cuddles) The word "itai" is generally used in anime when a character is crying out about some kind of mild-to-moderate pain.

-"Gomenasai": Proper way to say "I'm sorry". Most people just say "gomen".

-"Watashi wa kowaru": "I'm afraid". "Kowaru" is the adjective form of "kowaii", one of the Japanese words for "fear". Once again, poor baby. (cuddles more)

You prolly could've figured that out on your own, but a direct translation is always nice.


	4. Black Dreams

Kumotta Sora

see disclaimer in Part 1

Crux had been gone for quite some time.

Although that probably meant that she was just further away than usual, Fabula couldn't help the small prick of worry that joined the other stabs of discontent.

She'd finished stitching the back of Kumo's wound closed, but she thought she'd better give him a moment before she did the front. He was in enough pain as it was, and his fever had begun a sluggish but steady climb. She'd forced him to ingest a few herbs that should've checked it, but they'd had no effect whatsoever. His lack of nourishment over the past few days was costing him the last of his strength; he was simply too tired to do battle with his illness any longer.

He slept constantly; if he didn't get food or medicine, he'd probably never wake.

And there was still the psychological trauma he'd been through. The rape of his body, by Chaos or whichever of his lords... the rape of his _soul, _when Chaos had possessed him at the climax of their battle... and most importantly, the apparent betrayal of the brother he'd loved so dearly... everything he'd been through since the destruction of his world also weighed him down. He didn't have to suffer by himself any longer, but he had no way of knowing that. And the depression he struggled under sapped his reserves far more than any injury possibly could.

Fabula was truly starting to fear that he would not make it. He was just getting worse and worse, the different elements of his condition throwing him further and further down the continuous spiral of dearth.

And by the soft, muted whimpers that accompanied his every breath, he certainly wasn't finding solace in his dreams.

---

_On our first night together, when I had let you inside me, the pain had been a sharp, agonizing shock. I'd gasped when you penetrated me, and cried when I'd felt you thrust. I hadn't been able to help myself... I'd been a virgin then, terrified by the force of my own lust, unused to the close clutch of our tangled bodies. The pain, while I'd still felt it, had been unbelievable._

_Chaos taught me that my pain then had been nothing._

_It hurt, and it never stopped hurting, as it always did when you loved me, needful and tender. When he forced himself into me, I felt my flesh rip, and my hips ached from the first time he slammed his own pelvis against them. He'd had me pinned, his hands like iron claws right below my shoulders. I'd tried to reach around to his wrists, his hands, _anything, _looking for a vulnerable point to scratch, but there were none I could get to. In a mere thirty seconds my thighs were wet with blood, sickly traces of his semen flecking the mass of mottled black-red. It wasn't long after that... that I lost all ability to fight back, completely drained, my wounds throbbing as though struck just as regularly as my pulse. I just lay there as he pushed deeper and deeper into me, his hands running along my body, greedy fingers digging in and scratching. I'd screamed, cried. Pleaded in a breaking voice for him to stop. He laughed at me, mockingly assured me that it would all be over soon. Almost gently licked my tears away._

_I had never hated nor feared anyone so much in my life._

_When he'd finally, _finally _released me, I'd wanted to run as fast and as far as I was able. But I was simply too weak to move. It still hurt too much... it was too like _our _first time for me to bear, with me aching and exhausted, unable to shift my body so much as an inch without a struggle. I just lay there and sobbed harder, more wretchedly even than I had when he'd done those things to me._

_I was completely helpless; I couldn't even defend myself against the actions of one man..._

_Niisama... Niisama... what you believed, that I was always one step ahead of you in our training... it wasn't true...! I always _wanted _you to protect me, and I never needed it more...!_

_Niisama... why!_

---

"Kukuriyu..."

Looking up in the middle of stroking Kumo's soft hair, Fabula sighed deeply in relief. _Finally, _Crux was back... and in her hands, she carried one small fruit, a ripe green pear.

"Thank God...!"

The little sprite touched down and held it forward. Fabula took it carefully.

"I think you've just saved his life with this, little one. He wouldn't have been able to hold out any longer... without food, he... he won't be able to fight his illness anymore. Do you think you'll be able to get anything else from the place you got this?"

"Kukuriyu..." Crux shook her head uncertainly, and then hesitantly explained.

She'd stolen the pear from a farm almost fifty miles south of the forest. She'd seen the farmer and his family while she'd waited to see if it was safe, and was reluctant to take anything from them again.

Fabula just smiled. Shifting the pear to one hand, she held out her other, palm up, in the air, then whispered a few words in an archaic language. Crux stared in amazement as several brassy coins appeared there, and started when Fabula held them out to her.

"You can use these to pay for the next fruits you take," she said calmly. "You should go out again tomorrow, but for now, take a little well-deserved rest. Saving lives is a weary business, after all."

---

_As soon as I was strong enough again, I hid._

_Finding a dark corner of Gaudium, I huddled in fear, praying to gods that had forsaken me that I wouldn't be found. My injuries ached; the slightest movement drew a new rush of blood from between my legs. The bruises along my throat, shoulders, and hips throbbed, and the scratches over my belly and groin seared when my breathing shifted my skin._

_I wished that I could surround myself once again with my Mist, a breath of sanctuary, providing myself with enough familiarity that I could sleep, rest, dream away the terror and the filth that was so deeply laced into me and give my battered body the chance to _heal.

_But I couldn't. It would have given me away._

_So I curled into a ball in that tight dark corner, shivering with the cold and the fear, and prayed. Prayed for safety. Prayed for release. Prayed that I would die._

_My prayers were not answered._

_On the fifth day, just when I was beginning to feel weak from hunger, one of the scientists Chaos had trapped spotted me. She pulled me from my hiding place into the laboratories where she and the man she'd appeared with created Chaos' new monstrosities, and set both food and bandages before me, no questions asked._

_From that day forward, whenever Chaos had his way with me, I could always find those things there. I don't know whether it was her way of fighting against the mind control Herba had placed her under or just another way for Chaos to torment me, like the way he would always dry my tears as they came. I was too tired to try to understand._

_Too tired to resist... too tired of life..._

---

Crux, looking on as Fabula forced the still-unconscious Kumo to eat, was so exhausted, she could've fallen asleep just standing there. The only thing that kept her up was worry.

These days, whenever she was around him, she couldn't help but stare, even though she'd resolved not to. With every hour that passed, Kumo seemed weaker, frailer. If she looked closely enough now, she could see the shadowy impression along his side where his ribs were starting to stand out. Though he shivered constantly, his cheeks still flamed with the bright red flush of fever, and his soft, whimpering cries while dreaming only made him seem younger and more helpless.

She was beginning to feel that they were fighting fate by trying to pull him out of his illness, drawing out his suffering. Somewhere deep within her heart, she felt that Kumo was going to die.

Four feet away, Fabula sat up with a sigh. "There," she said softly. "It may not be much, but at least it's something. He'll be able to hold on for that much longer."

"Kuu..." Crux couldn't help but say it, even though it broke her heart. There wasn't any hope at all.

"Nonsense," was Fabula's sharp reply. "If we can keep Kumo fed for long enough, if we can make sure that his wound heals cleanly, if we take the greatest care we can of him, there's still plenty of chance that he'll either fight off his sickness or outlast it. The many worlds still _need _him. And as long as there are those who would hang on to him in their hearts, he _must _survive. For the sake of those who lost their lives, and for the sake of those who love him--_we cannot let him die."_

Crux was silent, torn. She wanted Kumo to live as much as anyone else, but he was just so sick! How could Fabula insist that he could still be saved? Yes, Crux wanted to believe it, but... if she let herself believe, if she truly allowed herself to hope that Kumo was going to make it, the blow would just fall all the harder when he finally slipped away.

Kumo's low moan of pain and terror shocked Crux out of her reverie and drew her attention back to his fever-flushed naked form. He was shaking worse than ever, and there were real tears on his cheeks as he cried out in his sleep. Instantly, Fabula bent back down and leaned over him, placing one firm hand on his shoulder and stroking along his back with the other, murmuring softly to him all the while. It did no good--Kumo's cries grew louder and louder, taking the form of words:

_"Dareka... dareka..."_

Fabula placed her hand on Kumo's forehead; the pupils of her eyes contracted to slits as she concentrated, and her long hair swept up behind her as if tossed by a strong breeze.

_"Dareka tasukete...!"_

Fabula shouted; Kumo's eyes flew open as his body bucked in mindless terror. Seeming panicked, he stared warily and frantically around the area; calming slightly, he shuddered, gritting his teeth as his eyes filled again with tears.

Through it all, Crux stood frozen, too shocked and frightened to move.

"It's alright! It's alright! You have to relax now, you're safe! No one can hurt you here," Fabula was saying, her hands once again on Kumo's shoulders. "Please try to calm down... you need to rest!"

Kumo let out a low whimper, then threw his arms around her, his too-frail body shaking with the heavy sobs he couldn't manage to suppress.

As Fabula cradled the white-haired swordsman, whispering soothingly to him, Crux let out a nearly silent, shallow gasp.

She hadn't meant to look. She hadn't wanted to look. She'd done her best to keep her eyes from straying to Kumo's body over the past few days, but this time she hadn't been able to help it. And during her brief glance, she'd caught sight of a faint pink line, almost invisible in the delicate curves of Kumo's derriere.

From there, she hadn't been able to keep her gaze from straying slightly further down--and there were scars along _those _curves, too.

Fabula's words echoed in Crux's mind.

_"No one can hurt you here."_

Oh, God. Kumo... what had _happened _to him? Why hadn't she ever noticed this before?

Unable to stay still any longer, Crux flitted forward to hover at Kumo's shoulder, putting her arms around him and pressing her cheek to his soft skin.

"Kukuriyu...!"

As they held him, Kumo continued to sob and shake, his long and continuous wail a sharp reminder of the pain he'd suffered, the pain that, until now, he'd been unable to express.

---

Once more, Kumo slept.

Fabula couldn't be certain what he had dreamed of, but she was willing to bet that Chaos had been involved. Even in its death, that monster was still reaching to attack this innocent child.

Aside from having to use a Word of Power to break the dream-trance Kumo had been in, Fabula had spelled him for sweetsleep. For at least eight hours or so, his sleep would be deep, dreamless, and healing. Much more of what he'd been having, and his mind would be shattered forever.

It was a risk, but one she had to take. At this going rate, Kumo would be either dead or insane by the end of the week. Even worse, his unstable mind could lose grip on his Unlimited powers, leaving him a broken, burnt-out husk even if he managed to survive.

You wouldn't have been able to see it before, but the things Kumo had been through had affected him more deeply than had been expected. To all Fabula's age and experience, he was little more than a terrified baby who had been forced to learn too soon that monsters _did _exist, and that none were so predictable as to simply hide in the dark places of the world. Kumo had faced such monsters down and had barely gotten away with his life, but they had scarred him more deeply than any marks on his skin could show. Those tiny, fading pink lines would disappear one day, but Fabula doubted that the ones deep inside his soul ever would. The only thing that could salve such wounds was the purest love--which perhaps Crux would one day be able to supply, but that Kumo would never be able to receive. He'd already given his heart away, and it still belonged to the madoushi who, through Oscha's trickery, had seemed to betray him in the worst of ways. Someone like Kumo would never be able to recover from that pain... he would suffer from _that _until his death, whenever that time came.

Fabula gently touched the magenta jewel she'd strung at her throat after removing it from the cowl of her robe, a soft growl of frustration rising from her chest. If not for the seal the crystal represented, she would be able to heal Kumo's injuries with a simple wave of her hand, without denting her power in the slightest. But as her _own _Unlimited power was out of her control, she had to keep it on, or risk accidentally destroying everything she'd worked so hard to save. And breaking the seal was as good as death for her, anyway.

There had to be some other way.

For Kumo's sake, she _would_ find another way.

---

With the 250 gil Fabula had created tucked into a small velvet pouch, Crux flew straight for the farm she'd spotted the other day.

She felt so much better that she'd now be able to do something in return for the fruit she took. While she _did _want to save Kumo, she didn't want to do anything else bad in her lifetime. She'd seen enough of that in her days at Gaudium to put her off the concept forever.

Arriving at the little hut, Crux suddenly realized that she didn't know how she was going to get her request across. _Fabula _might be able to understand her speech, but few ordinary humans could.

She would either have to do some serious miming, or find something she'd be able to write on...

But for Kumo, it would be worth it. She would do it, for him.

Shyly, hesitantly, she shifted the pouch to one hand and rapped on the wooden door with the back of her gauntlet.

After a short pause, the door creaked inwards, and above her loomed the figure of the weatherworn, brown-haired farmer, running a gloved hand over his mustache. "Well now, what have we here, ye wee bairn?"

She might as well try. "Kukuriyu..."

The farmer scratched his head, looking perplexed. "Cannae ye speak the Common tongue?" Red-faced, Crux shook her head. "But ye can understand it, nae?" She nodded needlessly. "Well, best come inside. Ah'll see what ah kin do for ye."

He headed back into the house; Crux followed after a pause.

"What is it ye've got with ye?" the man asked curiously, pulling a chair up beside an oaken table.

Yanking the drawstring on the pouch, Crux spilled the coins onto the rough surface, carefully watching the farmer's face, which flickered briefly with amusement as the gil spilled out.

"So ye've come to buy, is that it?" Her hesitation fading, the little sprite nodded. "What would ye be needing from a man like me?"

"Kukuriyu...?" Unlatching the window with a little work, Crux flitted into the orchard, managed to pull an apple from the nearest tree, and set it on the table beside the money very carefully.

"Food supplies?" The farmer's eyebrows went up and down. "Now why would a wee thing like ye be needin' as many supplies as 250 gil can buy? Ah cannae see ye eatin it by yerself..."

Crux flitted back and forth indecisively, not knowing how to phrase it, or show him what she meant. After a few moments of this, the farmer placed a quill and scrap of paper on the table.

"Ye can write in Common, nae?"

As a reply, Crux carefully took the quill--it was the entire length of her arm--and using a small inkwell already there, wrote down all that she dared about Kumo's predicament. She had no way of knowing where the farmer and his family stood on the issue of Gaudium and its former lords, but she did realize that she couldn't risk bringing it up--she merely wrote on behalf of her "very sick friend" who needed food supplies badly.

"Well, then. It'll make a dent out of the crop for this season, but there's little ye kin do in a bind like this. Ah'll help ye in what meager ways possible."

Sighing, Crux slumped to her knees and almost fainted in relief.

---

The basket of fruit was heavy, but nowhere near as heavy as Kumo or that boy had been. Crux's arms and shoulders ached, but she never had to stop and rest along the way.

Maybe now, there'd finally be hope. Maybe now, Kumo would at least _start _to get better.

So Crux was taken off guard to hear the angry shouting in the little cave when she touched down.

A very white-faced Fabula was kneeling next to Kumo as usual, uncharacteristically yelling at the top of her lungs. "Damn... _damn... _DAMN! It would come now--dammit! And there's no way I can...! _DAMN _it!"

"Ku..riyu...?" Crux began, edging slightly away from where she'd set the farmer's basket.

Fabula turned to her, a set expression of mixed horror and fury on her face. "Kumo... he's hit the crisis point of his fever. And there's just no way... with me like this, there's no way to save him now..."

(TBC)


	5. Always

Kumotta Sora

(See disclaimer in Part 1)

"Kukuriyu!"

Fabula took a deep breath, apparently trying to regain some semblance of control. "Ordinarily, with our help, Kumo would be able to fight off his illness, if with difficulty. But the worst is already happening, and it's as I feared—rather than just succumbing to the sickness of his body, he's finally let everything he's suffered through for the past year get to him. He's given up, Crux. Somewhere in there, he's decided that he just doesn't want to live anymore… and _that, _in the long run, is what's going to kill him."

"Kuu…?" Crux covered her mouth with both hands, wide-eyed in alarm and disbelief, starting to shake. It couldn't be.

"You know as well as I do that Kumo has gone through excessive amounts of physical and emotional trauma while he stayed at Gaudium," Fabula told her. "And since he lost his world, his psyche has always been delicate. There's only so much that any soul can take, after all. It's a wonder that he hasn't gone insane by now. But instead, it seems as though he's decided he'd rather die than face the rest of his existence, in fear of the pain he might suffer in the future." She was silent for a while. "And there's nothing either you or I can do to convince him that there might still be a reason for him to keep living.

"Although… just maybe… there might still be someone who can…"

"Ku?" What was she getting at?

"Crux, listen to me and listen _carefully. _This could be the difference between life and death for Kumo, and it's imperative that you do this _quickly." _Fabula sighed. "By now, fragments of the worlds Chaos destroyed should have begun to appear throughout Wonderland, as it continues to become more and more unstable. You were there before, I believe—Oscha convinced Pist to use it as part of his Ocean Puzzle, as part of their elaborate scheme to allow Chaos to feed off of Kumo's misery even more than it already had.

"A part of Mystaria should still float the skies of this world, one of a few islands that have begun to appear suspended in the air. If you find it, search it. Somewhere within the walls of the ruined city, there should be a cemetery… and one half of a broken sword should still lie on one of the graves. Get that sword and bring it back here as fast as you can."

"Kukuriyu?" What good would something like that do?

_"Please. _We don't have time for questions—just keep in mind that if you do this, it could save Kumo's life. Find it. _Hurry. _We're running out of time. I'll stay here, and do my best to keep him alive until you get back. We're counting on you."

---

_Why keep fighting?_

_Why keep fighting when I've already lost everything there is to lose?_

_Why keep fighting when my destiny is forlorn, and all those I have battled so hard to protect hate me?_

_Why keep fighting when my life is no longer worth living?_

---

Fabula cradled Kumo in her arms, holding him as he shook with fever, as he struggled to breathe, his efforts destroyed by spasm after spasm of violent coughing, as his lips formed the shape of a name he no longer had the strength to speak.

"He really was everything to you, wasn't he?" she asked, though she knew she wouldn't get any answer out of him in his wretched state.

Kumo let out a pained moan and clung to her instinctively.

"…You fool…"

---

Crux floated high above the forest, glancing feverishly around.

Yes, she knew that Pist had used Mystaria as part of the Ocean Puzzle. But she had no idea how in the world she was supposed to get there, now that the Ocean Puzzle itself was gone. Floating islands? She'd never seen anything like that, even allowing the weird mix of fragmented worlds that was Wonderland.

So now what was she supposed to do?

Irritating as the vagueness of Fabula's instructions had been, Crux didn't have a choice if she wanted to keep Kumo alive.

And that was the only thing that mattered now.

Hesitating only a moment longer, she picked a direction and was off.

---

_Where did she get the strength to keep going?_

_How did she keep standing, keep fighting, as she saw her companions die around her?_

_How could she not have given up in the face of an enemy with the power of Chaos?_

_How did she do it?_

_I've always kept the memory of her strength as a way to try to keep myself fighting all through the pain and misery of my life at Gaudium, but I've come to realize that though I want to emulate her, deep down I just don't have it in me to keep taking it._

_Aura was an amazing person._

_I feel vaguely as though I'm letting her down by doing this, but by now I just don't care anymore_

_I can't keep trying to measure up to her achievements._

_When it comes down to it, I can either give up… or break…_

---

Upon catching sight of it, Crux wheeled madly in the air, backpedaling her wings for all she was worth until she came to as near a stop as she could in the air.

She thought it had been destroyed…

But no—Gaudium, or at least what was left of it, still hung huge and hollow and half-demolished in the air, almost mockingly.

What was going on?

Her search for fragments of Mystaria temporarily forgotten, Crux steeled herself, then slowly hovered towards the nightmarish flying castle, darting amongst the ruins. It seemed almost as though the place had never been inhabited at all, and most of the grand halls and wide marble rooms had been decimated under the collapse of the ceilings of the place.

But all the same, she thought she heard a voice…

_Why am I doing this again? _Crux asked herself wearily, but she couldn't hold back her curiosity. Who in the world would be hanging around a place like this? The Earl and his lords were dead, after all… weren't they?

After a moment of hesitation, she slowly followed the sound of the voice, making sure to stay behind bits and pieces of the ruined walls and pillars.

Once she got close enough to see what was going on, the shock froze her completely, rendering her unable to flee for safer skies.

In what had once been the throne room of Earl Tyrant, the necromancer who had created her stood just behind the motionless body of the plant-woman Herba.

"O Soul of Chaos, eternal spirit of destruction," the wicked creature intoned, "accept this receptacle for your being, this shell for your core. Grow and extend once more… take this body, and begin the ancient struggle once more!"

As Oscha continued to chant and wiggle, and Crux watched with mounting incredulity, _Herba's hand twitched just slightly._

The former minion of the Earl sat up slowly, almost as if she were in a trance, her eyes still sealed shut and her plantlike flesh covered in the pallor of death.

There was a sharp pulse through the air, and a chill swept along its wake with enough force to make Crux shiver where she hid.

Very slowly, the leaves that had always enfolded the bud on Herba's head began to peel away, displaying the still-tightly-rolled violet flower beneath.

And her eyes opened.

But something was different, Crux realized—Herba had always been selfish and hedonistic, but her face held a coldness that the sprite-doll had never witnessed in her before. Besides, Herba had died when she'd fallen into Chaos before… hadn't she?

Herba stood, turned to Oscha, and began to smile.

"Well, there, Oscha-chan, that was close, wasn't it? But thanks to your good work, Chaos will thrive again soon…"

Oscha bowed low, his spineless body still wriggling in dark delight. "Of course, Your Highness."

Herba looked around with an expression of ennui. "Before we start to go after the Heirs, this place could use a lot of redecorating. Tyrant-chan always did like to keep it _far _too gloomy for my taste."

"As you wish, my Princess," Oscha told her, bowing again.

That was when the full import of what had just occurred hit Crux, still watching from her hiding place in the wreckage.

Somehow, Oscha had resurrected Chaos—and he'd done it by putting its spirit in Herba's body.

Coldness washed over Crux in heavy waves, followed by the throb of panic.

_She couldn't let them find her._

As soon as she had the opportunity, she fled—and once she was out of Gaudium, she chose a direction and flew, thinking only to put as much distance between herself and that place of nightmares as possible.

---

Still trembling where he lay in Fabula's arms, Kumo let out a weak sob that lengthened into an aching moan, which was shattered when he started to cough again.

"Easy," she told him, rocking him gently. "They'll be here soon. Just hang on until then, dear. Don't give in just yet, Kumo… don't give in just yet…"

---

Crux had no idea how far she'd come from Gaudium.

She had no clue where she was or how long it had taken her to get there.

She just knew that she was staring at by far the oddest thing she'd ever seen (which, considering her long travels as she'd followed the rebel military, said rather a lot).

It looked as though an entire continent had been ripped out of the ground and set drifting, which would've been impossible enough on its own.

Considering that it was drifting through the _sky, _Crux had stopped dead and slapped herself a few times just to make absolutely sure she wasn't hallucinating.

It was almost too convenient, now that she thought about it—but she didn't have the time to think, because she had to go look around there.

She would've recognized the scenery _anywhere._

A thick layer of clouds covered the surface of the floating continent, several feet thick and as soft and springy as a dream to the touch. At the center of the place lay the ruins of what had surely been the most magnificent of cities once, all stone towers and walkways, with tall pillars and archways lining its streets and a beautiful fountain at its very center.

It had been almost thirteen years since Chaos had destroyed this place, if she was to believe what she had been told. The thought filled her with an aching sadness, though she knew that Kumo had spent most of those long years in a timeless, dreamless sleep until his awakening, when he had determined to uncover the cause behind the senseless destruction that had claimed both this place and the world of Windaria, a land that Crux had never seen and knew little about.

Still, it had hurt him so badly to go through such an ordeal here, in the place he'd been born and raised—here, in one of the once-glorious cities of Mystaria.

The decadent beauty of the ancient citadel would've claimed most of Crux's attention if she hadn't remembered that she was here for a reason. As it was, she still had a hard time tearing her eyes off the architecture long enough to look for a graveyard.

Eventually, she found it: carved stone spires in neat rows, lovingly engraved with names in a language that Crux wasn't immediately familiar with.

Still, it wasn't too hard to pick out the one she sought. The shattered remains of the red Maken that had been so tenderly laid before the stone monument pulled the eye sharply even as they twisted the heart.

Slowly, almost timidly, Crux hovered close to the memorial. When she finally touched down and closed her hands around the smooth cold hilt of the sword's lower hilt, she froze in shock as a familiar, distinctly hostile voice echoed through her mind, taut with suspicion.

_Who are you and what do you want? _it demanded.

"Ku…kuriyu…?" She didn't know what she was supposed to say.

The voice was silent for a while, its pause pregnant with consideration.

_Very well, _it said at last. _Take me to him, if you can._

Taking a deep breath and holding the sword's hilt tightly, Crux took off again, glancing down at it every now and again.

Despite her worry, she didn't hear the voice again.

---

Fabula had just laid Kumo out along the floor of the shallow cave in preparation for the worst when she heard Crux's call and turned to see the sprite-doll flying towards her, the hilt of the broken Maken in hand.

Anxiety dropped away, to be replaced by a thrilling, heady relief. "You just made it," she told Crux warmly. "Thank God you got here. Now, give it to me."

Crux handed the sword over willingly.

With obvious care, Fabula knelt by Kumo's side, laid the piece of the sword on his chest hilt-up, and gently positioned both his hands to lie along the broken crystal that had begun to glow faintly.

Smiling, she stepped away; when Crux looked at her questioningly, she shook her head and pointed.

Crux turned back to Kumo, then let out a short cry of surprise. A faint familiar form was now crouched over his body—indistinct enough that she couldn't see the exact expression on the face, but distinct enough for her to tell that this spirit or whatever had appeared naked.

And _plenty _distinct enough for her to make out the specter's arousal as the translucent image laid itself intimately across Kumo's body, sealing ghostly lips over the unconscious swordsman's.

Crux squeaked and blushed; Fabula, amused, covered the sprite's eyes and turned her away. "Come along now—let's leave him to his work; you and I need to talk, anyways."

---

Either this is a dream, or I'm losing my mind.

_The thought echoes through my head continually, a disbelieving refrain, but it does nothing to dismiss your presence, the warmth of your body against mine, the tight tangle of our lips, the soft caress as you run your fingers through my hair._

_This is just too good to be true._

_But impossibility or not, here you are._

_I relax into your arms, clutching you to my chest as you pull back to let me breathe, spreading soft kisses down the lines of my throat to my collarbone. Your tenderness brings tears to my eyes—and just like that, you stop, edging up on your elbows as you look down on me with concern._

_"Kumo, are you alright?" The fear on your face, the deep love in your words strike a sweet chord in my heart. "I didn't think—have I hurt you?"_

_I can't stop the smile, even as the tears start to flow. "No—no! It's just… I'm just so _happy!" _I hold you tightly, snuggle my face into your hair like I always used to. "You're _here. _How? How can this be?"_

_I can feel you smiling back as you kiss my cheek, touching my face but accepting the tears as they come, such a relief from the way Chaos always stifled them. "Shh. Don't speak. Just be. Just be with me, here, now."_

_Logically, I know this can't be real._

_But I don't care._

_I've wanted this for so damn long._

_"Love me," I demand, whispering it into your ear._

_"Are you strong enough?" is the first thing you ask. So typical of you, and yet another relief—I can feel how painful your desire must be, and yet your first concern is with me, just like always._

_"It'll be alright," I reassure you, winding my fingers into your hair. "Love me. Love me and make it all go away."_

_"We'll take it slow," you promise, and you kiss me again._

_After I'd awakened, I felt the loss of you as though part of myself had been torn away. Eventually, I got used to the pain, and lived with it. Now, realization comes in a fresh and giddy shock as I feel what it is to really be _whole _again._

_I've missed this more than I've let myself realize._

_Need heats my blood as your lips drift over my body, and I cling to you with a whimper. It's been too long since we've last done this. I don't know how long I can handle this._

_You're patient with me, like always. Your arms are steady around me as passion slowly dissolves my surroundings, as I start to forget all the pain and all the suffering that came before._

_Just like the first time, you hold me close and whisper comfort to me even as you slide your thighs below mine, pause before taking me to ask if I'm sure._

_So sweet of you—it's exactly this kind of thing that reminds me why I fell in love with you._

_There's a sharp stab of pain through my body as you come inside me, a jolt I half-expected, as my flesh is still tender from everything I've been put through these past months. But even as you try to halt again, begin to ask if I'm okay, I stop you with a kiss, surge my hips up against yours and slide over you. We both understand my message: You take me, or I'll take you._

_I've wanted this so badly, it hurts._

_I've always remembered the pleasure as a heavy rhythm, like waves. This time it's more like fire—consuming my body and mind in relentless heat, leaving me only the barest awareness of your hoarse breathing, my own enraptured mantra of your name, the rapid slap of skin on skin as our bodies entwine, too heavy for me to differentiate between each silken slide in and out of me._

_God, yes. I've waited for this, wanted this for far too long._

_I've lost too much control too quickly—I can't hold, but surrender to you and tighten my legs around your waist as the blaze of our coupling reaches flashover and I come violently, staining both our bodies. You tremble, and let go with a single cry of my name._

_I've missed this so badly._

_I've needed this so much._

---

"I can't say I didn't expect it," Fabula said slowly, shaking her head. "Still, I had hoped that this time, Oscha wouldn't be able to find a new vessel for Chaos so easily."

After leading Crux far enough away that neither of them could see nor hear what was happening between Kumo and the spirit that had lain dormant in the broken sword, Fabula had gotten her to recount the tale of what had happened before she'd discovered Mystaria.

"I really have lost track of time, it seems. At least I know I'll be leaving you two in safe hands soon enough—help will be on the way in a few days, after all."

"Kukuriyu?" What kind of help did she mean?

Fabula only smiled. "You'll see. Just wait."

Crux sighed. She _hated _it when the Guide got mysterious.

Fabula's smile grew as she turned to give the cave where Kumo still lay a short glance. "I knew this would work. Kiri can convince Kumo that he needs to keep living where the rest of us fail to—you've saved his life today, Crux. He may not remember it clearly in the days that follow, but that's one thing he won't forget. You've saved him, and in doing so, you've saved everyone."

Crux blushed and stayed silent. She had no idea what to say to that.

"Ah…" Fabula glanced up, and pointed. "Look."

Crux followed the woman's gaze, and realized that the thick sea of clouds that had covered the sky ever since she had rescued Kumo was starting to give way, allowing a few glints of brilliant blue to show through.

---

_I lie happy and sated in your arms, tracing meaningless patterns along your clavicle with the tip of my finger._

_You smile at me, then lean in to kiss my forehead. "That was…" You give me a long, fulfilled sigh. "I don't think there are even _words _for how awesome that was. Wow. You're even better at this than I remembered, Kumo-chan, and here I always thought we had it as good as it gets."_

_I bite back a laugh and snuggle close to you._

_You grin at me, kiss my cheek, and then nibble my earlobe, letting your hair drift forward and tickle the nape of my neck, making me squirm against you and cling to get you to stop even as my laugh breaks loose with a surprised sound, like the rare music in the shattering of glass. You graze your lips against that ticklish spot just so that I'll squeal, then finally ease up and shift your lips back to mine._

_We kiss for a while, an activity I never tire of. I love the way you taste, and between desire and affection, you have a silly habit of tongue-fencing that's both highly entertaining and a bit of a guilty pleasure. I could do this for hours._

_You give up relatively easily, then sigh and stretch a little before settling your arms back around me and re-tangling your legs with mine. "Mmmmmmmm. Whoever it was that said regular orgasms are good for you, I absolutely believe them. It's been way too long since we've done this, and I'm willing to bet that you haven't self-serviced for months."_

_"Niisama!" I can't help but go red, probably because it's the truth. "Why do you always have to go spoiling romantic moments by being so perverted?"_

_You grin and stretch again, looking for all the world like some lazy tomcat. "You love me for it, though." Your grin becomes predatory as your hand slides down to my hip, then drifts over to rest between my legs. "Well, I'll make allowance for the fact that you haven't had much to self-service _to, _nor much of an itch to scratch. I got all the sex drive in our family."_

_"Niisama, stop it," I mumble, and blush some more._

_"Oh, you don't really mean that." You know me way too well. After a few moments of imitating the same patterns I traced along your skin, your grin starts to widen. "Okay, _there _we go. I was starting to worry—it was taking rather a long time, wouldn't you say?"_

_I shiver and moan. "Just get on with it," I plead._

_You frown at me. "Kumo, are you _sure _you're a man?"_

_"Shut _up." _I grab your wrist and get you started._

_You laugh, even as you shake my hand away and take over. "Okay, masculinity confirmed."_

_Just to annoy you, I don't even bother trying to hold, but let the climax come quickly, sweeping me away as I thrust towards you and rake my nails down your back._

_Of course, it doesn't work. When I open my eyes and stare at you in a daze, trying to get my breath back, you're just giving me that self-satisfied look as you meticulously lick your fingers clean._

_"You are _impossible," _I proclaim._

_"I love you, too," you tell me patiently, running the tip of your forefinger over my lower lip._

_I taste the bitterness instantly and make a face even as you start to laugh again. "Niisama! Ew!"_

_When I'm done fussing and you're done making fun of me, your expression softens, and you hold me close, heart to beating heart._

_"I love you," you tell me again, serious this time. "I just want you to know… I'm sorry for before. I'm sorry for everything you had to go through without me… and the things you had to go through because of me."_

_"Niisama…" I look at you in surprise._

_"I'll never forgive those bastards for using me to hurt you," you swear, regret in your eyes as you lean in to kiss me again. "I'm so sorry, Kumo-chan…"_

_"It… wasn't your fault…" I say, disoriented. "Niisama, why are you apologizing? It's not your fault."_

_You give me a rueful smile and ruffle my hair. "Kumo, you're too sweet for your own good."_

_I sigh, unhappy now. "Niisama, all of this… was this just a dream, then?"_

_You pause, consider. "Yes and no," you say at last. "And you probably won't remember most of this as real. Your body's still sick, after all. But I want you to know that I love you. I always have and I always will, and nothing those people do to me or you will ever change that."_

_Sudden tears choke me as I cling close to you. "I love you too, Niisama," I whisper, overcome._

_You kiss my bare shoulder, stroking my back. "Shh. It's okay now. You'll be okay now. You've got friends waiting for you now, you know—other people who care about you. And besides, you and I will meet again. So keep going, okay? Don't give up the fight just yet."_

_I try a smile. "Okay."_

_"Promise?" you ask, your eyes warm with love as you slip your pinky through mine._

_"Promise," I reply._

_You kiss my cheeks and squeeze my hand. "Get some rest, now— okay, Kumo-chan? Once you wake up you'll be in a safe place, and you'll know what you have to do. And you'll also remember… I'll always be with you. I'll always be right here." You put your hand on my chest, over my heart._

_I feel the tears well up again. "I love you, Niisama."_

_You lean in and plant a brief kiss on my lips. "I love you, too, Kumo."_

---

By the time Fabula and Crux went back to check on Kumo, he was sprawled on his side, one hand still wrapped around the hilt of his brother's sword, sleeping deeply, his breathing even.

Fabula knelt by his side and laid a hand on his forehead, then smiled. "His fever's broken," she proclaimed in a soft voice.

Crux sighed, immense relief flooding her body.

"That means it's time for me to go."

"Kukuriyu?" Go where?

Fabula just smiled. "Back to the job I'm supposed to be doing. Don't worry. You have Kumo to look after, and besides… you and I will meet again one day."

"Ku…" Crux held out a hand almost shyly.

Fabula laughed, surprised, even as she took it. "You don't need to thank me. It was good finally being able to meet you in person… both of you. You're brave young people, with another long journey ahead of you. Take your time, enjoy the peace while it lasts. Kumo may not remember me when he wakes, but you will, and you can be sure—no matter what, I'll always be watching over all of you."

Fabula stood, slowly gathered her things, and pausing a moment to gently ease Kiri's broken Maken out of Kumo's grip, walked away, carrying it with her.

After she disappeared into the forest, Crux looked up at the sky.

It was a pure, beautiful blue, with barely a cloud in sight.

---

_"Hey, Cid, come here—you're not going to believe this!"_

_The inventor looked up from the mineral-laced stones he'd been examining, nonplussed. Miles had just come tearing through the trees back to him—her short violet hair was in complete disarray, her eyes were wide, and her face was flushed from the run. Something had obviously shaken her, and that in itself was rare enough for Cid to want to know what was going on._

_"What is it?" he asked, standing up and dusting off his shorts._

_"Come with me—you've got to see this," Miles insisted, grabbing him by the wrist and pulling him along a twisting path through the heavy forest they, along with most of the other members of the Comodeen, were supposed to be exploring in order to find materials to fix Silvia's hull before they prepared their precious airship for takeoff._

_After a few moments of shoving through the brush, the trees gave way to the silvery surface of a lake that had remained hidden by the screen of the forest, as well as a few small outcroppings of stone along its edges._

_"Sure, it's interesting, but what—?" Cid started to ask, but Miles shook her head._

_"Over here," she insisted, leading him to a hollow in one of those outcroppings._

_When Cid first saw the lean white form curled up in the shelter of the stone, he did a double-take. "That's… but what is Makenshi doing here? Lisa-san told us that he and Kaze…"_

_Miles shook her head. "I don't know—but he's here, and somehow he's still alive. He's pretty beat-up, though, and he looks like he's lost a lot of weight lately. He's unconscious, and he wouldn't wake up when I tried shaking him, but he's still hanging in there."_

_Cid knelt at the swordsman's side, looking from the dark slashes beneath those tightly closed eyes, the vague impressions of ribs along the lean sides and chest, the faded bruises, and the inexpertly dressed wounds with flecks of blood along each makeshift bandage._

_"They really put you through the wringer," he murmured, putting a sympathetic hand on the other man's shoulder. "Miles, give me a hand—we need to get him back to Silvia right away. Everyone needs to see this."_

-owari-


End file.
